


euphoria

by cloudymonet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudymonet/pseuds/cloudymonet
Summary: Every night she would crawl through his bedroom window, and every night they would look each other in the eye and lie until they found a fleeting moment of euphoria. Now wasn’t the time for honesty. He knew that, and he hoped she knew it too.





	euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> this is SUPER short and i haven’t written a fic in like literally 5 years but i love petermj so mf much and the infinity war trailer made me emo so here’s some post-war petermj
> 
> quote at the beginning is by rex orange county

_And I don't mind if you hate me_  
_Cause baby if I were you I would probably hate me too_

Michelle Jones had electricity running through her veins. Peter came to this conclusion one night as he held her slender form in his sore arms. She liked picking at the scabs on his knuckles and rubbing gentle circles into his palms. It sent waves through Peter like an electric current and filled him up. From time to time her hair brushed up against his nose and felt like satin on his skin. She smelled like vanilla and smog—a combination Peter never thought could be so intoxicating.

Nights like these had become somewhat of a routine after the war. The war that kept him awake until dawn. The war that wouldn’t graze his lips no matter how hard anyone tried to get something, anything, out of him. _Keeping your hurt bottled up inside like that is only going to make things worse for you. You’re not giving yourself time to heal._ He knew May was right. He wanted to vocalize his pain. He wanted someone to understand what he’d gone through, and what he relived every night. Every time he thought he’d found the right words they clung to his throat like glue, and it made him feel helpless.

Sometimes Michelle would whisper sweet things, _gentle_ things like, “You’re okay. You’re here and you’re okay.” Peter wanted more than anything to feel safe and reassured, but he didn’t know how to convince himself that her gentle lies were true. He told her gentle lies too. “I know,” he’d whisper back. He wasn’t sure if she believed him, but he knew it was what she needed to hear. After everything he’d seen, after everything he’d done and didn’t do, he knew that the best thing he could do for everyone he loved was be okay even if he wasn’t.

He loved Michelle, and he knew that Michelle loved him, but he couldn’t tell her that her touch felt like volts running down his spine or that sometimes he imagined what her lips would feel like on his skin. Every night she would crawl through his bedroom window, and every night they would look each other in the eye and lie until they found a fleeting moment of euphoria. Now wasn’t the time for honesty. He knew that, and he hoped she knew it too.

In the dark, Peter pulled her into his chest, and she buried herself in his embrace. He wanted to kiss her and tell her that he wasn’t okay and that he may never be okay again, but the idea felt far away. The more he reached, the further it fell from his grasp. When dawn arrived, before he drifted to sleep, he longed for the integrity he lacked. He longed to be okay with not being okay.


End file.
